


The Skies I'm Under

by rivlee



Series: Shifter 'verse [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Prompt Fic, Shifters, Spartacus Reverse Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivlee/pseuds/rivlee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fleeing war in their homeland, Nasir and Sani of the Panthers of Coele find themselves in a wolves' den.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://jaegerorangecat.tumblr.com/post/54286038295/my-entry-for-the-spartacus-reverse-big-bang-in) amazing piece of work by Kyon for the Spartacus Reverse Big Bang. Massive thanks for the support from her, Stephi, Alex, and Kay. Extra special thanks to static_abyss and gaygreekgladiator for their beta work on this piece. Trust me when I say they both improved it greatly. Any remaining mistakes are my own. 
> 
> While this fic is obviously inspired by many fantasy trope, the idea of avian werecreatures maintaining feathers on their bodies while in human form is from Amelia Atwater-Rhodes' _Kiesha'ra Series_.

The world was starting to whiteout around Nasir. He could feel his mouth go dry as they trudged on; each breath was a burden. The weight of his hair and the ribbon in it marking his kills felt similar to an anchor. If he shifted to his other form perhaps they could make more ground, but then Sani would be without a defender. Not that Nasir could do much now, with blood staining his clothes and his wound gaping open, but he could still manage one good throw of his spear for the sake of his brother, the last standing of his kin.

They had been betrayed. 

Their clan, the Panthers of Coele, was the last of their kind in the lands past the eastern mountains. Nasir and Sani were now all that remained of the royal line, their cousins now either dead or captured. The bargain with their kin over the mountain pass to secure shelter was a desperate act for a clan brought low. After years of threats, the Eagles of the West and the Hawks of the North had combined to claim Coele for their own. Nasir had been sad to leave behind their ancestral lands, but their lives were far more important than old throne. The Eagles had grown impatient and attacked at dawn, when the cubs were still in their beds and the fires gone to embers. 

Coele, once ancient and proud, was in ruins. Nasir and Sani held the last of its memories and its powers, along with the weight of its dead. Sani would have to carry the legacy on, take on the Pelt of the King and the Staff of the Sword of the Queen, and keep their history alive in words passed down generations. Nasir was all but clinging to the last fraying threads of his life. 

“Nasir,” Sani said, tone soft as he approached his brother. “We must rest. Let me tend to your wound.”

“We must keep going,” Nasir argued. If he stopped, if he took a single moment to enjoy the grass under his feet or the shade of the trees overhead, he would not move again. 

“We need water,” Sani said. His voice was insistent, while his eyes spoke of worry. Even now, the younger sought to protect the elder. Sani had always been viewed the weaker of the siblings, never able to take on the full form of a true panther, but that had never kept from what he viewed as his solemn duty. “I can smell a river. It is not too far to the west. Can you not hear it, brother?”

Nasir could not. His ears were full of nothing but the sound of his own blood, the soothing tones of his brother’s voice, and the sputtering gasps as he tried to take a deep breath. He felt the pull of the other side of his soul, the panther begging him to change, to hide in these last few moments in the form with which he entered the world. 

The pained growl that rent the air was all his own.

“Nasir, please,” Sani beseeched him. 

He could not deny his brother this wish, the last possible favor in his life, and so he nodded. Nasir slid down to rest in between the roots of the closest tree, bark scrapping against his back as it pushed aside his cloak and pelt. He tried to find sanctuary in the pleasant shade under the tree’s bough. This felt like a good place, a sacred place, and he swore he could hear the voices of the land around them on the wind. It was a teasing, tinkling sound unlike the full timbered whispers of their homeland.

“Stay,” Sani said. He tightened his pack around his shoulder, but unclasped his water skin from his belt. “Take mine. I shall refill yours.” 

Nasir was too tired to argue and so he unclipped his own water skin with shaky fingers. Sani remained silent as he helped Nasir with the exchange, letting his body speak as he briefly grasped Nasir’s wrist before backing away. Nasir carefully placed the water at his side and took another deep breath. He wrapped his free hand around his spear and tightened his grip until he could focused again, using the weight of the weapon to stay centered to this life and world. 

“Remember where we are,” Nasir said with one final word of advice.

“We are lost,” Sani said.

Nasir laughed then, a hollow sound. “In so many ways, brother.”

********************

Nasir startled awake when he felt his spear slip from his hand. He straightened up, hissing in pain as he remembered where he was and how life had come to this. He used the spear to level himself again, grasping his side with his free hand. There was still fresh blood there, but it felt less now, just a trickle, than the gaping wound from before. He blinked, willing away the eyes of the panther, and concentrated until he saw the world again as a human. Beside him the green grass was stained a rusty brown thanks to his wound. There was a second water skin at his side signaling Sani’s return, but he could not hear or smell his brother. 

It cost him much to lift his head to look at the sky, yet he had to know how long it’d been. He squinted as he took in the trajectory of the sun. Mid-day had passed and Nasir still lived. His hands started to shake again, as if his body was finally remembering what had happened to it, and his fingers almost turned to paws before he forced the change back. The pain was enough to distract him, even as it kept him grounded, from another scent in the air. 

His lips curled as he came back to himself and took in a big whiff of Wolf. Nasir released his side to grab for a rock or stick at the base of the tree. He found nothing, save a small pebble, but it was enough to make his point clear. He nearly bit through his tongue in pain as he threw it towards the bush.

“Was that entirely fucking necessary?” a voice growled out. A tall wolf in human form emerged from the shadows of the forest. He was tall and broad, his bark-brown hair held back from his face with a small blue tie. The large pelt around his shoulders was anchored in place by a skull.

A leader then, wearing the proof of his victory over his challenger for head of his clan. Nasir’s streak of luck seemed to continue its unraveling path this day.

“May I help you?” Nasir asked. “Do they not teach your clan to let others die in peace?”

The wolf made a small sound in the back of his throat as he kneeled beside Nasir. He held his hands out as if offering appeasement and sniffed the air. “That is an old wound.”

“I’m aware,” Nasir hissed. 

The wolf grinned. “You’re not dressed for travel.”

“And you’re wearing a skull,” Nasir forced out.

The wolf smiled. “And you’re not wearing shoes. The ground is soft enough here for it, but soon you’ll get out of the valley and into the snowy mountain pass. What did you plan to do then, little cat?”

“I never planned to get that far,” Nasir admitted. He had no reason to give a stranger such truth but he remained too weary to care much. 

The wolf leaned forward, too close for Nasir’s comfort, and tapped a set of the two lines on Nasir’s cheek. “Four marks. High-ranking but not a leader, yet. Do you seek sanctuary?”

“I suppose I seek passage, if you offer it,” Nasir said. He tucked in closer to himself, hiding the marks on his belly, keeping his true rank a secret. 

The wolf shrugged. “You may not have coin on you that I can smell, but you do have gold and cloth. That could be payment for safe passage. Of course, I could always eat you, but I’ve found cat tastes stringy, and you’re half-dead besides. Nothing to chase after, so little thrill for my hunt.” He leaned over Nasir and sniffed at his skin. “You’ve only got an hour or two left.”

Nasir growled low in his throat. “Then take my neck and finish the job to put me out of my misery. The last words I wish to hear in this life aren’t your platitudes.”

“You’re not very pleasant to strangers,” the wolf teased. He sat down and attempted to look at Nasir’s wound.

Nasir pulled his knees closer to his chest and turned away. “Can you not show mercy for a stranger on the road?”

“I would not have death stain a grove of healing,” the wolf said. He laughed again, as if this were a delightful day. “Come on, little cat, let us see.”

“I have a name,” Nasir hissed. He took a deep breath and forced the animal side back. If he was to die during this asinine conversation, he’d at least have his name spoken in remembrance. He hoped the wolf would be kind enough to bury him. “I am Nasir of the Panther Clan of Coele.”

The wolf wrinkled his nose. “That’s certainly a mouthful. I am Agron, a wolf of these lands. East of the river as we say.”

Nasir looked to the sky and tried to listen to the water. “Are we not west of the river?”

Agron shrugged. “It’s not an exact name, of course. I only use it for the Eagles. Those worthless fucks require titles for all their dealings. I wonder how proud they must be when the Lions use them for lunch.”

“Lions aren’t real,” Nasir said. They’d never seen them in Coele, unlike the Hawks, Eagles, Wolves, and Leopards.

“I know of two lions who would protest to those words. Well, Barca would protest. Gannicus would have to roll off his rock to attempt words first, but then he’d be willing for a fight. Their pack is mostly outcasts, though they travel this valley on business and have found a seasonal home here.” Agron pulled open one of the sacks on his heavy belt. “Now that we’ve discussed the travels of not-very mythical creatures, may I see your wound?”

“You are a healer?”

“Hardly,” Agron said. “My brother had a similar cut once. I packed his with herb and it healed fast enough. We might as well try with yours. What does the panther before me have to lose?”

“Dignity,” Nasir said.

Agron’s eyes traveled over the ripped seams of Nasir’s trousers, the burns on his cloak and pelt, and the hands that clenched his spear. 

“Dignity left you a mountain chain ago, though I see pride still takes hold. Are you certain you are not a lion?”

Nasir would’ve roared if it wasn’t for the sudden clench of his whole body. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, dying under a tree with nothing but a wolf for company. If his mother could see him now. 

His vision was starting to dim when a familiar scent hit the air. Nasir couldn’t even bat away the hands that now inspected his wound, pressing close as Nasir hissed at him. All he could do was focus on the familiar weight of the spear in his hands, its texture, the cuts notched near the head from a lifetime of fighting.

“I would duck now,” Nasir told Agron.

“Why?” Agron asked. He pressed the jagged ends of the wound together. “Are you going to command _my_ trees to attack me?”

“If you don’t wish to lose your head, I would heed my words,” Nasir said. Agron just laughed at him again, and Nasir could not have another death at his hands these days. He groaned as he tilted his spear and knocked the wolf over his shoulders. It was enough for him to drop his head, just in time for Sani’s spear to go sailing past. 

Agron turned to him, face full of silent rage, as Nasir leaned back against the tree. 

“I warned you.”

“I almost had him,” Sani said as he approached, two dead rabbits strung around his neck. “Why did you save him?”

Nasir looked at his brother, wavering in his sight, before he gave into the urge to close his eyes. “We don’t kill wolves for their sheer stupidity, brother,” he slurred out before the darkness took him. 

*************************

Nasir awoke to a pleasant rocking motion, though the air around him was full of wolf. It took a moment to remember the day, and he tried to flee from the strong arms that held him.

“Stay still, little cat. I had to use rabbit gut to close your wound and I don’t think it would hold if you switch forms,” Agron said. 

Nasir looked at how far away the ground was, and how much closer to the branches he sat, when he realized he was being carried. He looked around until he found Sani behind them, carrying their packs, pelts, and spears. The bastard cub winked at him. 

“Put me down,” Nasir demanded. 

Agron shook his head. “Not until we leave the grove. I won’t have a broken ankle because of a cat’s fucking temper tantrum, or have you ruin my good work.”

“Work that can’t even hold for a transformation,” Nasir muttered. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry _Your Highness_ ,” Agron said. He shifted Nasir in his arms. “I apologize if it’s far from the royal treatment you’re used to.” His eyes dropped to the marks on Nasir’s stomach, now with added stitches. “You could’ve said something.”

“I have known you for less than a day,” Nasir said. He looked anywhere but Agron’s face. “Will you please let me walk?”

“I’d do it before he starts biting,” Sani advised. 

Nasir hooked his head over Agron’s shoulder and glared at his brother. “I know I should’ve sold you to the Cheetahs.”

Agron laughed then, a genuine one this time that lacked the mocking from earlier. It shook his whole body and upset Nasir’s perch, though the wolf simply tightened his hold. “I’ve heard such words before,” he said, a fond memory clearly recalled. He didn’t answer Nasir’s question, or let him down, until they were near the water line. A howl sounded as soon as they stopped. 

“Kin of yours?” Nasir asked. 

Agron nodded. “We sent a hunting party out for boar. I found you two instead. Saxa will be displeased so I advise you not to tempt her wrath. The one who approaches is named Donar.” He cut his eyes to Sani. “Refrain from throwing your spears at him.”

“No promises,” Sani said. 

Nasir nodded at his brother in approval, and agreed. “We won’t threaten unless he does so first.”

“Another stray?” Donar asked as he crossed the river. He stood as tall as Agron, wearing the same reds, browns, greys, and blues as the other wolf, though an axe was strapped to his back as well. He clasped Agron’s arm as he studied Nasir and Sani. “You’re going to start rivaling your brother soon.”

“He brought home a bear and a cheetah,” Agron said.

“And you’ve brought home a panther.”

“Two,” Sani said from behind him. He leaned closer to Nasir, fingers going white in the hold on their weapons. 

Donar nodded. “Apologies—I did not realize you were one of the Duals.”

Duals, a phrase used by the pureblooded to mock clans like Nasir’s. Duals could only half-form in their animal features, never fully able to completely change into their other side. They were still viewed better than Voids, those born into Pureblood clans who couldn’t become any part of any creature. To completely switch between the two, be animal one moment and human the next, that was a Pureblood. The power of the Pureblood remained the one one the Eagles wanted, but could no longer achieve. They were all Voids now and eagles in name and imagery only. Nasir’s clan had always been comprised of all three types, but was more Dual than anything else. The pureblood they had, though, was potent. Sani would never be a full panther, but that did not make him a lesser Panther of the Coele. 

“Offense not taken for ignorance,” Sani said, “though it will if you forget.”

Donar grinned, showing a wide set of teeth, in a way that was more amusing than intimidating. “Oh, the family’s going to like you.”

Nasir did not remember much of what happened after that. When finally ensconced in healing blankets in a sheltered hut, he failed to recall much else but pain and the sound of the river. He knew there were many others among them, his nose tingling with the scent of wolf, but also the smells of fresh kills from boar and deer. He remembered Sani’s hands gripping his ankles every now and then, a familiar touch in unfamiliar lands, yet he drowsed most of the way, finally too weary to even protest Agron’s hold. He knew there were introductions once they arrived, had mumbled words with a thick tongue, but when the chance to truly rest came, he took it without protest.


	2. Chapter 2

A series of soft howls and calls signaled the return of the hunting party. Duro of the Wandering Wolves patted the heads of the pups he was training, and motioned for Lugo of the Ida Bears to take over. Belesa, a fellow wolf, slinked over to him as they headed towards the protective wards of the camp. Any outsiders who came near would see nothing but a thicket of trees, a protective measure provided by the lands surrounding them.

Duro had always been better at coaxing the woods to protect them, unlike his brother Agron, who had taken his aggression out on them more than once. The trees had come to an understanding with the wolves; if Duro kept Agron far from the saplings, then the trees would help protect their pups. 

“They return early,” Belesa observed. She already had her body angled towards the sounds of the returning wolves. Her smile was wide, eager for the appearance of Saxa, her mate. With the Eagles push for more power, each trip beyond the sanctuary grounds was dangerous. Belesa never attempted to stop Saxa—it would be like ordering the sun not to rise—though she remained worried in their time separated. 

Duro had explained on many occasions, even unto the loss of his own voice, that Saxa was the best hunter and tracker among them. There was no need to worry of her safe return when she had so much to call her home and live for. He’d only received watery laughs from Belesa in return, but her pulse calmed each time he reminded her.

It was his duty to see the pack his brother led kept safe, calm, and content.

Duro turned his attention back to the borders and sniffed the air coming in from the west. He found the faint scent of blood and decay that meant a successful kill. He cocked his head as he found something unknown mixed in those familiar smells; the scent of two strangers, and not wolves or dinner. Duro took a deeper breath and tried to place the outsiders. Feline of some kind, though not lion, cheetah, or leopard. Another deep breath, and then he cursed.

“The fuckers brought home panthers,” Duro muttered under his breath. Belesa turned to him in confusion and Duro shrugged. “Melitta forced me into the training of categorizing other clans’ scents.”

“You did so willingly?” Belesa asked.

Duro brushed an invisible speck of dust off his cloak and adjusted his tail. “There may have been some violent incentive from the ever prowling lions and the cheetah.”

Belesa smirked. “So much bravery for a wolf,” she teased.

Duro playfully tugged on the blue ribbon that marked her as one of their own, a member of the Wolves Near the River. “No one attempts to defy Oenomaus or the Lions for fear of the consequences. I still have a claw mark or two in my rump from his lessons.”

Belesa attempted to lift his cloak for an inspection when a harsh curse sounded in the air.

“Greetings, Saxa,” they both called, as Duro slapped Belesa’s hands away.

Belesa left him for the allure of Saxa’s arms, both growling into a welcoming kiss, before Belesa divested Saxa of her kills. He waved them off, dismissing both from their duties, and resumed greeting all who returned. He complimented the hunters on their acquisitions of boar, rabbits, and deer that would keep the whole pack fed for some time, and waited patiently until Donar, Agron, and their new guests appeared. They were the last in the line, straggling far beyond even the youngest of pups. It was a clear testament to the serious injury of the panther-shifter Agron carried in his arms. Concern was wrought on the face of the other panther, who lingered behind Agron’s back, and kept reaching out to touch the head of his pack-mate.

Duro allowed himself to study the two strangers with all his senses. They were of a slighter form and stature than the wolves, both with long dark hair mostly pulled away from their faces, accompanied by a trailing red ribbon that fell to the side. They looked exhausted, the familiar strain of surviving battle obvious in the invisible weight heavy on their limbs, the torched and burned clothes, and the stumbling feet of the one who remained standing. 

“Greetings, friends,” Duro called to them, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “You will find sanctuary here and a place for much needed rest.”

“You’re being presumptuous again,” Agron said, as he carefully lowered the one in his arms to the ground.

Duro snorted at this brother. “You could never head this pack without me. They’d overthrow you in a fortnight.”

“He speaks the truth,” Donar said.

The panther that stood in front of Agron batted his hands away as he rose to his full, small height. The other panther joined his side, passing one of the two spears he held into his hand. Up close Duro was able to get a more thorough look. The taller panther deferred to the shorter, injured one. They were brothers, perhaps, or subordinate and leader. He wondered at their different hairstyles; the taller one fashioned his hair held up and to the side, while the other gathered his hair to the back. They both had marks on their faces, declaring their positions in their own clan’s hierarchy. Duro wasn’t quite certain how to approach them. He’d learn the hard way not to tug a tiger’s tail, and he wondered if the same applied to panthers. 

“I hope my brother was hospitable,” Duro said.

The panthers exchanged a glance before they both came forward. They stopped a foot or so in front of Duro and subjected him to their own study. Duro didn’t flinch under their gazes, but simply smiled at them. He found it was an act some viewed welcoming, others a taunt, though it amused him either way. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve never quite found cat gut to be tasty. I’m Duro, if Agron has truly forgotten his manners. For once, the wolf has dragged in two cats it seems. Well, not for once, I’ve done it myself, but this is Agron’s first time. He would have to bring relatives. Brothers, yes?”

“Do you ever cease talking?” the shorter panther asked.

Duro winked. “Only when I sleep, and I’ve been told even then there is little guarantee.”

Two dark heads shook in unison before two forearms were extended to Duro, a sign of trust, and a check for hidden daggers. Duro took both quickly before insult could be implied. 

“I am Nasir,” the shorter one said, speaking slowly and carefully. “This is my brother Sani. We thank you for your hospitality.” He grimaced then as his hand shook. “I would not cut this meeting short, knowing the proper rituals required for welcoming strangers in a home, but may I inquire if you have a healer among you?”

Duro glanced down and finally found the trace of blood he’d tasted on the air. A wound, hastily and clumsily stitched up, clearly by Agron’s hand, had pulled open. Duro sent his brother a displeased glare and received a shrug in response. 

Duro sighed as he extended his full arm to Nasir. “Come, lean on me. I am more to your height than the other idiotic wolves behind us. I’m certain Sani would like to keep watch of your spears?”

“It is my duty,” Sani mumbled as he took Nasir’s spear again. 

“Kore does not allow weapons inside the healing hut,” Duro said. “She’s a Dove—well partially, but don’t hold that against her. And do try not to eat her if you revert to your other form. Her brother is a Hawk, and one with quite the temper. I’d rather he not peck your eyes out. It would ruin what little reputation we still have left, and he gets such awful indigestion that keeps me up half the night with complaints.”

“I thought this was a wolves’ den,” Sani said. He looked at Duro with suspicious eyes that only lightened when they rested on Nasir. “This isn’t one of the places that capture other clans and then eats them, is it? That’s really how you got those impressive tails, correct?”

Duro looked down at Nasir. “He’s an imaginative one.”

“He’s the dreamer of the family,” Nasir said. “If you eat us, I hope you die,” he added as an afterthought.

Duro laughed before he turned back to Agron. “You’ve brought us the most interesting strays since I found Lugo.”

********************

Most outsiders thought their pack nothing but wolves and their human companions, and Agron preferred it that way. It allowed them to offer protection for those without any other pack or clan to call their own. They had Purebloods, Duals, and Voids, those who were born of the animal clans yet exhibited nothing but human traits, and just about everything in between. Duro and Agron had lost their home at the hands of treachery, and so they made it a goal to ensure a safe one for all others. 

The river provided them with water to bathe, fish to eat, and strong currents to help the mill grind its grain. The forest was also invaluable to them—offering up its own secrets of warm springs and iron deposits for protection from the Eagles, who always brought destruction. They’d learned to build huts of stone, to find home in the caves, and to only use wood of the dead and dying trees. All done to earn the loyalty and respect of the forest around them. Agron, Duro, and their immediate pack mates were trusted the most, the longest dwellers of this home by the river side, and their presence existed mostly in legend to those who passed by the closest trade point. The pack preferred it that way, and so it was kept.

Duro lingered in the corner or Kore’s hut as he watched Agron watch the panthers. Kore’s hair was pulled back, the small feathers that forever lingered at the nape of her neck the only sign of what she could become. She had fled from the Eagles after being caged for nearly a lifetime. She spent her youth as a jewel brought out on display when the Eagles to impress the leaders of other clans. Her capture was undeniable proof that if they could get a child of the Hawks, even if it was half-breed dove, then they could get anyone. 

Kore hummed a healing song as she cleaned Nasir with Sani’s help. Sani watched each of Kore’s movements, not out of suspicion, but curiosity, and Duro wondered if the boy had ever wanted to be a healer, but was kept from such a position. Duro had seen the marks on Nasir’s stomach; these were royal panthers, not just strays. It seemed Agron had kept to his normal extremes. He couldn’t just bring home a pair of stray brothers—he had to bring home princes. 

Duro nudged Agron with his foot and gestured for him to follow outside. Duro needed to know if it was time to call in favors from the other packs and clans. He needed to know if those who had attacked Nasir and Sani would even want to follow their scent here. If so, they’d be prepared, but it was better to start now than wait and scramble in a panic. 

“What do you know?” Duro asked as soon as they were outside.

“Panthers of Coele, in the mountains apparently. It seems they were attacked by one of their own—or rather, a related Panther clan. They’ve had some dealings with the Eagles from what I could guess. Neither one of the cats was willing to speak much.”

“And yet you’ve damn near pissed all over the princeling,” Duro said. He bit his lip as a blush stained his brother’s cheeks. “So unlike the wolf who once told me that the bear who followed me home would eat us all.”

“Lugo could eat us all if he tried,” Agron argued. He pulled his arms across his chest, causing the skull on his shoulder to push forward. It was a move used to intimidate and worked on anyone who _wasn’t_ Duro. “He was wounded, Duro. I couldn’t leave him there to die.” 

“You _could_ have, but you wouldn’t. That’s what makes you a good person, even as you are a wolf,” Duro said. 

Agron’s jaw clenched as he looked off to the forest of the Eastlands. “It was like finding you all over again. Defiant even as your blood poured out, still babbling with a wound that could silence you forever. In no world could I ever just pass someone so injured. When his brother came along, my decision was made. Two panthers without a home remind me of all who dwell here.”

Duro rubbed the back of Agron’s head. “They have one now if they so desire, and if the clan approves it.”

There was a clear conflict battling inside Agron. “Doing so could bring war to us. They’re royal blood. How can they not be pursued?”

Duro wouldn’t insult them both with offering empty words of comfort. The Eagles liked to collect prominent shifters as a symbol of their status. The panther brothers before them would be worth a hearty ransom for any creature full of greed. Wolves were deeply protective of their dens though, and this land had been declared sanctuary with all the guidelines and known laws of hospitality. If their boundaries were crossed by someone with intent to harm, it would be a declaration of war. 

“They are safest here,” Duro said. “We have never turned away those in need, and we will not start now. If war is to come to us, then we shall prepare. We are not without allies, Agron, and those loyal to this land. If the panthers wish to find a permanent home here, then we shall take a vote and change them from refugees to members.” He smiled to himself at the tenderness in Agron’s eyes as they returned to the healing hut. “Do not think so fucking darkly, brother. We are all allowed joy in life.”

A loud squawk sounded behind them, which meant all the hunters had finally returned. Duro rolled his eyes and turned around, opening his arms as a large fish was dropped in his hands. 

“Yes, I see how the joy of heart’s content just overcomes you,” Agron said. 

Duro ignored him as he watched the large hawk about them circle twice more before settling down. Between one breath and the next, Auctus emerged, arms traded for wings, sharp mouth for a beak, and as naked as he came into the world. 

Agron grabbed the fish from Duro and headed toward the fire pits. “Try to control yourself,” he called over his shoulder. 

“I hope your tail catches on fire,” Duro yelled after him. He tugged his cloak off and handed it to Auctus. “Oh, don’t give me that beady eyed look. You know the sight of you always brings me pleasure.”

“There are strangers in the hut with my sister,” Auctus said.

“Panthers, who unlike most hawks, don’t eat doves, far as I can recall,” Duro said. He tugged his cloak closed over Auctus’ shoulders and started to drag him toward their home. “Leave Kore to her work, the last thing she needs is you distracting her and attempting to interrogate our new guests. Besides, you smell of fish and I would replace that stench with something far more pleasant.” 

Duro always considered it a small victory when Auctus offered no protest. 

 

************************

Duro woke from a pleasant dream when a third body entered his and Auctus’ bed. He rolled his eyes as Auctus pulled him closer and Agron tried his best to burrow into Duro’s side.

“One or the other,” Duro said. Some nights, such as this, he wondered how his life had become nothing but a tug-of-war. 

Agron frowned. “You swore you’d never choose between us. That’s the only reason I gave my consent for your dalliance with the chickadee.”

Duro sighed as Auctus leaned over his shoulder and glared at Agron. “I will peck your eyes out and feed them to Lucius’ nestlings.”

Agron patted Auctus away with a half-formed paw. “Sit back, beaky.”

“Both of you will be thrown out of this bed if you don’t stop fighting on top of me,” Duro warned. He could feel his fangs start to form out of pure frustration and knew his voice had become more growl than actual words. It was enough to calm down the two most miserable bastards in his life at least.

“Apologies,” Agron said. 

Auctus just nipped the back of Duro’s neck before resuming his comfortable position at Duro’s back. Duro patted Auctus’ arm, but kept his attention on his brother.

“I assume the eldest panther has yet to wake?” he asked.

“His name is Nasir,” Agron reminded him. “I found him quite entertaining. It would be a shame for such fire to be doused permanently.”

“Of course his natural beauty has nothing to do with your attraction. It’s all conversation, I see,” Duro said.

Agron kicked out on him in offense. “ _Some_ of us find conversation an important matter.”

“You hate conversation,” Auctus rumbled. “You once claimed it a torture thought up by small minds with nothing better to do than eat their own shit. You had Mira write up a treatise against it in hopes to avoid the Complaints and Concerns meetings.”

Agron leaned over Duro to flick at Auctus’ forehead. “I enjoy it when I have a proper companion,” he insisted. 

Duro thought it prudent not to mention Agron went days without talking by choice, and had once swore his wolf form was the best because howls and yelps were far more appealing than any combination of words. That would start a whole other argument this night, and he really would rather sleep some time before dawn.

Agron slumped back, defeat clear in the small whine that escaped his throat. “Kore refused to wake either one of them, or let me see them.”

“She puts her patients first,” Auctus said. “That _is_ why she’s here.”

“Not the only reason,” Duro assured him. 

Kore was the most precious thing to Auctus, the nestling he had risked all for as he helped smuggle her away from the Eagles. While each adult member of the clan had to prove their worth and provide, Kore, like all the rest, had found sanctuary here. She had never received special treatment for being the sister of Duro’s mate. She’d earned all the respect and love of the pack based on her own skill and kindness. She had the strength and wit enough to know which strays or stragglers would benefit their home, which should only have sanctuary for a season or two, and which should be banished if they brought danger and ill will towards the pack. She was much more than just a healer to them. She was their first line of defense inside the boundaries. 

“Will you speak with her?” Agron asked. “She’s always more willing to forgive your transgressions over mine.” His eyes darted to Auctus. “And you know how to use your advantage well.”

Duro could recognize the uncertainty and concern in Agron. He remembered how off-kilter he felt when meeting Auctus, full of conflicting emotions and the need to know everything about a veritable stranger. It was Duro’s duty in the clan to provide support to Agron, but this was more than just a second supporting his leader. 

“I can’t promise I’ll be nice _or_ proper about it,” Duro said. “I will try though.”

Agron’s face broke into a wide grin and he messily kissed Duro’s forehead, ignoring the protest of both brother and brother-in-law.


	3. Chapter 3

The air smelled of lavender and mint—herbs burned to mask mas the harsher scents that came with healing ointments and old bandages. It was a pleasant thing to wake to, much better than a deep gulp of dirty wolf, and Nasir felt the urge to stretch in contented pleasure as he came out of a peaceful sleep.

He immediately regretted such a decision when the stitches pulled at his side. He cursed and looked down, glad to find them expertly done and holding strong. There should’ve been more pain radiating from the wound, but the bitter taste in his mouth meant some sort of medicine had been poured down his throat. He carefully pulled himself fully upwards and swung his legs to the ground.

Someone had placed socks on his feet, scratchy, yet warm. Sheep’s wool he guessed from that feel. He laughed to himself at the thought of wolves tending to sheep for something other than a meal. 

“It is good to see you with us again,” a steady voice said. A woman approached, a bird of some kind by the feathers on her neck, and held a bowl of broth out to him. “You have slept for two days. I was finally able to convince your brother he needed to seek his own rest, rather than guarding your dreams. I am Kore, a healer of this sanctuary.”

Nasir turned his head to find Sani curled up in a corner with his hair undone, and a roughly woven blanket over him. Someone, possibly Kore, had forced him to wash up, and his hair had dried in a curly, tangled mess. Nasir was surprised to see their spears leaning against the wall next to him.

“I was told you refused weapons inside this hut,” he said.

Kore shrugged. “I am willing to make exceptions to my own rules, especially if it is the compromise required to get a patient to rest. He may be without obvious wounds, yet there is still something to treat there.” 

Her eyes lingered on Sani with the kind of warmth that made Nasir’s breath catch. It had been many long years since a stranger had shown such tenderness towards them. 

“This is a strange place,” he suddenly said, forgetting his better manners. “Everything I’ve heard of wolves is being proved false.”

“Not all of it,” Kore said with an enigmatic smile. “I believe you’ll see that in time. Just know you are safe here. This pack owes a great deal to this valley. It is one of the reasons Duro still stands with us. The wolves wish to see that favor repaid, and they are quite social creatures who welcome those with a like mind. Any who flee the Eagles shall always find room here for a time.”

Nasir wondered at how her voice went harsh over the mention of their common enemy. It was more than just taught disdain, learned from rumor or her clan’s teachings. The sudden tightening of her body spoke of harsh experience. 

“How long until I can switch forms?” he asked. He rarely spent a full day as completely human and only did so if required by circumstance. He quite liked his runs as a panther and the sun-warm naps that followed. It was a rare indulgence as he gained prominence and power through the years, his one constant other than Sani at his side. 

Not that he had much cause for his hard-earned title now. They were a royal family without a kingdom. Fucking Ashur and his fucking plots. Nasir would have his head one day. 

Suddenly the hut door was thrown open with a loud bang as it hit the wall. Nasir almost dropped his broth in surprise and Sani woke up from a sound sleep, immediately reaching for their spears.

“Duro,” Kore hissed in a tone so unexpectedly menacing even Nasir flinched back.

“What? The little cats need to wake up from their nap, because Agron is getting paranoid and Donar’s getting cranky.” The wolf, absent cloak and pelt, easily pushed Sani’s spear aside. “Down, kitty. I’m just here to make sure your brother is awake and sound.”

Nasir squinted at Duro in confusion. He vaguely recalled meeting him upon their arrival here, but much of that time was still lost to him. He wondered if the wolf had carried that many bites and scars before. 

“You look as if you’ve been mauled,” Nasir said.

Duro looked down at his bare chest with a small smile. “Hazards of sleeping with a hawk.” He slid into Nasir’s space without any sense of propriety or caution. “Hello, again. The last time we met you were dying so I thought it best to reserve my judgment until you were more aware.” He took an audible sniff of Nasir’s scent. “Infection hasn’t set it, that’s always a positive.”

“You doubt my skills?” Kore asked, the feathers on the back of her neck fluttering.

“Never,” Duro swore. “My brother’s, though, are always of question.” He turned his attention back to Nasir. “Even under the medicines I can smell myrrh. That’s unique to the region of Coele, which could prove your tale, or you were around Eagles who already purchased it.”

“You think me spy?” Nasir asked. He put his bowl down with excessive force as he stood on unsteady feet. He kept his face blank as he crowded into Duro. “You would welcome us into your home and offer accusations? What have we done to garner such insult?”

“Not a thing,” Duro said. He patted Nasir’s arm as he slid back. “You passed the test. True anger in your scent, real indignation, and no panicking for being caught in a lie. You have to excuse us, but your story is _quite_ similar to the one that caused us to establish this den.”

“How are we to have known that?” Sani asked. He had returned the spear to its resting place against the wall, yet he remained poised for attack. “It is not a tale of legend in our lands.”

“Or is it?” Duro asked. He winked at Nasir before turning on Sani. “I am certain the names and the clan were changed as it traveled through the lands, of course. It is _always_ notable when a pack degenerates to a death match. The Eagles spun it as some sort of victory of course. All they got was land and a wealth of wolf corpses, but they still got the land.”

“We never dealt with the Eagles outside of required treaty meetings,” Nasir said. “It was our kin who betrayed us to them, those from over the mountain.”

Duro shrugged. “Then you negotiated often with them by-proxy, to carry such a heavy trace of their scent,” he said. He slid next to Kore and turned his head between the two panthers. “The ribbons in your hair, that dye only comes from Sur, yes?”

“Yes,” Nasir said. “The dye is local to the place and cultivated by the Cheetahs there. We have long held commerce with them.”

“And they were overrun by the Eagles two decades ago,” Duro said. “Two of the survivors of that battle reside here with us, Castus and Dagan. Both can offer testimony that those trade routes have been run by the Eagles since before you were even able to switch forms. You stink of them, not that you would know, because it is a scent that you have come to associate with those hair ties.” He shook his head. “Your kin, he or she was smart to devise such a scheme. You would never have been able to smell the Eagles on them.”

A resounding smack filled the air and Duro turned on Kore with a growl. “Does your brother not abuse me enough?”

“Then learn how to slowly ease into things,” she said. She fluttered her hands at Duro. “Enough revelations for the morn. The poor nestlings just woke. Out. Now. Tell Agron to stay away as well. He may bring his own inquires when _I_ deem them ready.” 

He inclined his head to Kore. “As always, your servant,” he muttered.

“Or at least mindful of just _who_ I call kin,” Kore sweetly said. She led Duro by the arm out of the hut before closing the door behind him. 

Once peace resumed in the hut, Kore gave them a small smile. “I will just be in the store room over there checking my supplies if you need assistance. Please do refrain from walking unguided through the settlement if you wish to leave; there are many who would offer challenge if only for amusement, and you do not know them well enough to guess if it is jest or a serious matter. Please do not hesitate to talk freely. I am bound by my own oaths not to reveal what is spoken in these walls, unless it threatens the security of our home.” 

“Do you think she speaks the truth?” Sani asked after she disappeared.

Nasir knew that she could’ve easily drugged them both, between their wounds and weary souls. She could’ve slipped a sedative or poison in the broth he’d just taken on pure trust, and yet she hadn’t. Nasir’s ability to judge the character of others felt off now, betrayal still a festering wound inside his soul, yet he trusted her. Kore did not smell evil, and nothing about her offered proof that she was anything other than a healer. 

“We all have mysteries in our past,” he said instead. “She certainly holds some secrets close, yet I do not think it would be wrong to place confidence in her.”

“Truly?” Sani asked.

He looked so young in the soft light of the hut. Sani hadn’t allowed himself to act his age in years, and he’d locked away the vulnerability and innocence of youth when Nasir found himself more king than prince. He should not have to bear such weight on already trembling shoulders. There was never any doubt to Sani’s strength, the depth of his skill and stamina, but even Nasir had been allowed to be _young_ for a time. 

Nasir smiled at his brother, giving a reassuring nod to the small spark of hope in Sani’s eyes. “I believe we have found a place that shall offer us more than just sanctuary. We may not stay for long. There are other clans to be warned of Ashur and his treachery, but Kore is correct. We have earned the right to rest weary head, brother.”

*****************

 

The sound of childish singing drew both brothers from the healing hut. They were the last children to be born to their clan, growing up relatively lonely with only each other for company. Their parents had died before they’d reached adulthood, and Nasir had found himself in the odd position of brother, father, and king to Sani, while Sani was forced to take on more responsibility than he should for his age. To have so many children around that they could make their own choir seemed something of a miracle. 

Kore greeted them with a small nod as she relaxed against the wall of the hut. The children were gathered in a circle, some human, some animal, and all riveted on a woman with long, dark curls, and a kind smile to match her eyes. There was a dusting of tiger stripes on her arms, and a desert fox curled in her lap. Two large lions lazily napped beside the group, rolling around in the sun. 

“Lions _are_ real,” Sani said. He sounded awed, and Nasir patted his hand. 

“That is Melitta,” Kore explained. “She teaches the babes. They’re learning a healing song, and another to welcome the Harvest Moon.” She studied them for a moment and inclined her head. “Sani, why don’t you sit with them? Ignore Barca and Gannicus if they growl at you. They heel to that tiger and the fox in her lap. Nasir, you will meet your escort soon. Don’t let the bear bother you.”

“Bear?” Nasir inquired. 

There was a roar from the woods. Sani and Nasir both flinched at the sound, but the kids all laughed. The lions didn’t even flick their tails. 

“Bear,” Kore repeated. 

The bear was named Lugo, much shorter than to be expected in his human form. He had a booming voice and liked to sing to the trees as they passed from the relative solitude of the healing huts, and all its grounds, into the main settlement. Here was the bustle of everyday life for a large group. There were owls, cheetahs, foxes, even some horses about. Compliments and laughter were thrown out as much as jeers and insults between those working the forges and the fire pits. There was so much going on Nasir almost felt dizzy. He was thankful when they came to stop at a large crowd gathered around two young wolves rolling around in a patchy spot of grass. 

Nasir recognized it as a common challenge fight, a way to prove skill and to seek greater approval and respect from a clan head. He’d seen a few when visiting other clans, like the cheetahs closest to their settlement in the mountains. They usually battled in human bodies, but the wolves here were all claws, teeth, and growls. Nasir looked past the crowd to where Duro and Agron stood, flanked by Donar, Saxa, and a third man who didn’t seem a wolf. There were too many around to determine the scent, but when he turned his head to speak to Duro, Nasir spied the line of feathers down his neck. The hawk then. All stood stone-faced, though Duro broke into a smile at something the hawk said, laughing even louder when his brother turned to him with a glare. 

Lugo nudged him with a meaty hand and pushed him towards the lead wolves. If they were among Nasir’s clan, such an offense would’ve been met with challenge or punishment. There were different rules here, and with Agron knowing Nasir and Sani could not return to their homeland, the threat of retaliation didn’t even exist. Nasir knew it was time to follow one of their oldest rules: adapt and survive. He gritted his teeth, forced his claws back and his hiss down, and proudly raised his head as he approached the watchful eyes. He may be a ruler absent a kingdom, but he had still earned his marks and proved his birthright. 

“Do they hold such contest where you come from?” Agron asked as he approached. 

Nasir shook his head. “There are not that many of an age to prove their worth so. We are all hunters, if required. Youth is uncommon to the Panthers of Coele.”

“ _Was_ ,” Duro corrected. He cursed as the hawk swiftly smacked the back of his head. “Auctus,” he growled.

“It is possible to show even an ounce of respect, Duro. You know what it is to lose your own homeland. The kit still need time to grieve,” Auctus said. He gave Nasir a sharp nod. “An ally of mine, one of the Cheetahs, traded with some of your people. Or the Eagles who impersonated them. Castus offers testimony for your account. He said the settlement was burned to the ground and the earth salted.”

Nasir tried to mentally count the days since the attack. It still seemed too few for such news to reach this far. “How?” he questioned.

“Wings,” Duro said as he ran a possessive hand down Auctus’ back. “Cheetahs are pretty fucking fast too.”

“Yet not built for endurance,” Agron said. “Castus is hardly known for his stamina.”

Nasir wondered why the words were met by such laughter by the wolves, and a blank look from the hawk. 

“I assume you had a purpose in summoning me, other than to bear witness to a wolf fight. If it helps to ease your pride, yes, I am quite impressed.”

Donar was the first to respond with a small chuckle. “I do enjoy these cats.”

“It’s more than just a test of worthiness for us,” Duro explained. “It’s to remind us all that the older and stronger can be brought down by the younger.” He gestured to the fighting ring. “Frida is years younger than Totus there, yet she will take him down. He is starting to waver, and she’ll win because she will outlast him. It offers honor to our leader, who took a wolf far beyond him in age, girth, and experience, and yet found himself victor.”

“With help,” Agron corrected.

“You still took his fucking head,” Saxa said. “Help or no, you dealt the fatal bow, and I do not believe you’ve decreed Totus can die today.”

“Melitta would not like the mess,” Agron agreed. 

“Put them out of their misery, then,” Duro said. He nudged his brother. “Come on, be the kindly old wolf. Give poor Totus a chance to not be humiliated again. You owe him that much, brother.”

“A fine showing,” Agron called. He nodded at both the participants before moving on through the camp. 

Nasir trailed after them, confused still over why he’d been summoned. If it was only to offer validation to Auctus’ words, they could have easily visited him in Kore’s hut. If it was to introduce him to the rest of the inhabitants, Sani should be at this side. If it was to gauge his reaction to the wolves’ history, Duro had already done his own investigation. 

Nasir did not enjoy being dismissed so easily, or summoned on the whim of another. He never enjoyed such games, the little taunts and displays to show who held more power. He was used to outsiders underestimating his skills and those of his brother. Even with that knowledge, even knowing he could give a good showing in a fight, he still felt pride for who he was. If this was a gathering of _all_ the clans of _all_ the shifter packs, Nasir would outrank every wolf present. 

To the Panthers of Coele he was still called prince, a title he held until finding a mate so that neither King nor Queen would be viewed as the more powerful. To any other clan, even the Eagles, he was very much the King of the Panthers of Coele. 

He would keep that knowledge to himself until he found just _what_ the wolves were after.


	4. Chapter 4

Duro watched from behind the hidden door as Agron led the panther princeling around their meeting hall. Nasir studied everything with a sort of disinterested respect. He never acted bored, nor did he act impressed. He was perfectly amiable and comfortable, with Agron responding much the same. It went against Agron’s normal tactic of semi-intimidation and semi-coy-flirtation to get someone over to their side, swearing allegiance, and keeping the borders of the sanctuary hidden and protected. 

“He does not play to Agron’s set plan. It’s worked on all others,” Duro said.

“Cats. Typical,” Auctus agreed. “Though it is hardly surprising, I doubt you would be that cooperative if kept under guard in a strange land, separated from your brother, and removed from your own sense of power. Nasir moves with deliberate thought and action, though. He has been trained for such a life. Are you sure he is just a prince? He holds himself a king.”

“There is a difference?” Duro asked. 

Royalty wasn’t common to the wolves. The most powerful remained the leaders, be that power in either fighting or healing. While certain bloodlines were favored over others, there was no guarantee of position. To have ultimate power of a clan was to seize it, either in a violent fight, or one done merely for show. Before Sedullus, there had been a peaceful passing of their clan’s leadership from one to the other. Staged fights where the current leader, who sought retirement and a quieter life, bowed his or her head to the new wolf were the norm. Sedullus had betrayed their parents to seize power. He had murdered them, lied to the clan, and while Duro and Agron were in mourning, started his own plans to turn his enemies and allies over to the Eagles. 

Duro made a sound of sympathy as he watched Nasir, recalling his own story. He well knew how difficult it was to adjust to such a change in life and status. 

“The difference,” Auctus said, laying a strong hand on Duro’s shoulder, “is in more than just title. He holds the _power_ of his clan. Not just in terms of a legal position. He holds their _actual_ power. He may have passed a good portion off to his brother, and it may still be a negligible power at best for such a small clan, but it is invaluable. Those marks aren’t just for show. If he were in perfect health, he could wield that spear with the force of the wind.”

“He is a sorcerer?” Duro questioned.

Auctus hummed. “Not in such terms. Just know that he—and his brother—are more than they seem.” He gripped the back of Duro’s neck before a growl escaped. “That does _not_ make him a threat, Duro. Castus’ words are true. They are good allies to have. We will need their skills—and their support—if the Eagles come to our den.” He kissed the top of Duro’s head. “There is a reason why they’re so protective of their spears. Now, go and be charming. Or apologize for your behavior from yestermorn.”

“I was perfectly pleasant,” Duro scoffed. 

“By your own standards, I’m sure,” Auctus agreed. It was Duro’s last warning before he was shoved out through the hidden gap in the wall. 

Nasir and Agron both turned to look at him, though Nasir appeared the far more amused of the two. Agron was nearing his angry-growly face used to scare small woodland creatures and tiny children. 

Duro rubbed his hands together and shrugged it off. “Greetings,” he said. “In addition to having a table which holds us all at equal status, this meeting hall also comes with a few hidden alcoves for security purposes. The bear likes to build things to excess, you know. I find new secrets in Lugo’s crafting each day.”

“Our room was hidden behind the throne,” Nasir said. “Yours looks almost seamless. Lugo has my compliments.”

Duro grinned. “I will be sure to pass them on.”

“How very helpful of you,” Agron growled. “Perhaps you should see to that while I discuss matters with our guest.”

“I could,” Duro agreed, “I could do that. It’s just a small matter I ask after, one Auctus brought up to me.” He pointed to Nasir. “That panther might be a sorcerer and while I find that an asset, especially if fireworks are involved because the small explosions do so confuse Saxa, I think we can both agree Crixus will frown upon such things.”

“Crixus frowns upon everything,” Agron said. 

It wasn’t a lie. Crixus was a bull, not just in physicality, but in temperament. Duro had never seen a human and animal side so well paired. He enjoyed barreling into things in both forms. Crixus was a Void by birth though, who had wound up forever changed by a sorceress’ hand. She was a panther just like Nasir, if Duro properly recalled.

“Do you know a Naevia? She’s a panther as well. Great power, so I’ve heard told. I thought it was the human in her that gave her such magic, but Auctus claims it’s more to do with panther birthright.”

Nasir inspected Duro as if he was mess on the bottom of his boot. “Do you ever fear the world shall run out of words because they all come spewing from your mouth?”

Duro didn’t view it as a betrayal when Agron covered his laugh with a coughing fit. If situations were reversed, he’d be much the same. 

“We shall just invent new words then,” Duro insisted. “You have yet to answer the question.”

Nasir shrugged. “You spoke it as if fact rather than inquiry. To be completely honest with you, yes, my brother and I are sorcerers of a sort. It is birthright, as we are part of the Royal Blood.”

“Especially so if one is the king of his or her clan, yes?” Duro asked. He kept his face still as Agron blanched and Nasir flinched. 

“I did not know wolves capable of reading minds,” Nasir murmured low. Gone was the pleasantly boring tone of small talk. The danger was clear where they now traveled.

“I’m horrible at games of chance, but relatively good with riddles,” Duro said. “Naevia, she is queen of her clan and holds power enough to force a Void to take a form. She held that position for many years before Crixus first met her, which means power must grow with time.”

“And members,” Agron said. “Her clan was small before she came to power. It was her and Diona and a handful of others. Then she took Capua—ripped it right out of the Eagles’ hands.”

“And took Crixus to boot,” Duro said. “For a relatively isolated clan like yours, Nasir, that power must be a paltry thing. More than we have here of course, but you would have had to spread it to another, a second, to keep you sane and safe. No need to give the Eagles more reason to come after you, yes? Sani would be the likely candidate since he is also of the Royal Blood, and you can spin it off as birthright without too many questions asked. You don’t use it often, but you know it’s there.”

Nasir’s jaw had set itself, kind eyes gone cold and hard. “Will I ever get the opportunity to speak for myself in this, or would you like to continue on with your assumptions?”

“Is he wrong, though?” Agron asked. 

From the quick shifting of Nasir’s eyes, it was clear Duro wasn’t. 

“To have the ability to conjure, it takes life from you. It takes energy and time to learn. We had no such luxury among my people. I have innate skill, but that is all. What Sani and I know how to do is more for rites than as any weapon or trick,” Nasir confessed. “We were taught to survive at all costs. We were taught to fight with weapons and words, but never with magic. If you seek us as an ally, we cannot offer you that as incentive. And we all know by being here, Sani and I bring threat to your boundaries.”

“The threats would come with or without you,” Agron said. “Do not think yourself of such import.”

Duro tried desperately not to roll his eyes at his brother, but it was a lost cause. Agron had never quite advanced above insults as flirtation. To be fair, he never had to. It had always worked quite well for a wolf who liked his fighting and fucking mixed together. Duro was wolf enough to admit he wasn’t much better, yet he at least understood the value of flattery in romance. 

“Honestly,” Duro muttered. He shook his head and headed towards the door. “Before we discuss anything resembling a full offer of asylum, residence, and sanctuary, we should call for a meeting. All clans will be represented.”

“The ultimate decision is mine,” Agron explained. “Though we like to respect those who make their lives here with us.”

Nasir nodded. “I give my consent for such a meeting and will abide by its outcome without protest.”

The words were spoken with such perfect formality that Duro knew Auctus was right in his suspicions, even without Nasir’s final confirmation. A prince did not speak with such certainty or gravity; a king, however, was another matter entirely. Agron never _could_ choose the easier path in life. 

*******************

Duro was far more than a glorified messenger, but he enjoyed this bit of posturing. It was a humble act of respect to summon the leaders of the various pack clans in person. It was one small act to keep the peace in their sanctuary, and Duro gladly performed it. He was always better than Agron with words even when Agron didn’t have to keep two royal panthers from bolting. Most animals knew the need to flee when cornered, and Duro only hoped Donar’s culinary skills and Kore’s projected serenity would be enough to keep Sani and Nasir calm while Duro gathered the others. Agron didn’t do well in enclosed spaces, and that attitude tended to spread like fire. 

He had a representative from almost every animal and human unit, even catching Spartacus and the other Thracian horses, before he finally approached the lions. They were more a mixture of predatory cats, with the cheetahs, tigers, and leopards who often bedded down with them. Duro never quite understood why Pietros and Chadara, both foxes and therefore closer to the wolves, chose to make their home with the lions, but there was no accounting for other’s taste and Duro had stopped judging years ago. 

After all, he’d made a home with a hawk of all things. 

“Why do you bother us?” Gannicus asked. He stretched in the sun, batting away the cubs who chased the strands of his long hair.

“Because,” Duro answered. He thought it was a sufficient reply, but shrugged when Gannicus quietly growled at him. “You can stay here. I’ll gladly take Barca instead.”

“Barca is easily persuaded by the innocence of youth and that shall sway any decision made,” Gannicus argued.

“Pietros is a fox. I don’t think he’s very innocent at all,” Duro said.

Pietros made a small sound from where he was curled up in a ball on Barca’s back. It could’ve been a note of protest, but Duro was positive Pietros would rule in favor of the panther brothers, so he took it as agreement.

“See,” he said to Gannicus. “I’ll take the general indifference as agreement to their stay. Come on, Gannicus. You can sit next to Oenomaus and make ever more inappropriate comments to make him lose his composure.”

Gannicus yawned in response. 

Duro took a deep breath and forced the growl from his throat. “There will be free food provided,” he said.

Gannicus hopped up and stretched at that, before giving himself a good scratch in places that Saxa had once claimed as her own. 

“If you’re quite finished, we have a meeting to attend,” Duro said.

Gannicus laughed. “Ever since you took up with that fucking hawk you’ve become too fucking proper, Duro. Let me take you out to the river’s edge for a decent drink and turn you back to that wild pup that used to dance naked under the stars.”

“A thing I still manage when the moon calls to me, yet no longer for your consumption or enjoyment.”

“And why not?” Gannicus asked as he threw an arm around Duro’s shoulders.

“Because last time you bore witness, I wound up with burrs in places that still make me wince,” Duro answered. He let the familiar weight of Gannicus’ arm stay as he attempted to herd him back to the gathering. 

************************

The meeting hall was filled to the brim, and the cacophonous sound of too many voices speaking too loudly made Duro’s ears ache. He admired the fact that Sani and Nasir didn’t even flinch, what with all the looks and whispers thrown in their direction. Secrets were practically unheard of in this sanctuary, and even though Agron had yet to make the official statement for why the meeting had been called, everyone knew. _Everyone_. Even Camilla, a jaguar who only passed by once a hunting a season. 

Agron held his hands up and all save Gannicus of course, fell silent.

“I have gathered you all here—”

“Don’t tell us you’ve mated with the panther, already,” Gannicus interrupted. “We’ve missed the courting rituals!”

Duro’s nails nearly turned into claws as he dug them into his arm to keep from laughing. Even standing behind his brother, he could see the red flush staining the back of Agron’s neck. Nasir and Sani remained stoic in their stances, yet Duro spied the distinct tremor in their shoulders that meant their own laughter was being held back by a tenuous thread. 

“Gannicus,” Agron growled, “I do hope the gods smile upon me one day and I’ll find you at the bottom of a pit. Nothing but bones picked apart by vultures and hyenas.”

“Only if you tumble down with me,” Gannicus said. He made a gesture for Agron to continue.

Agron cleared his throat and began again. “We are all gathered here to offer more than just sanctuary to our newest members. I would seek to offer the two brothers, Nasir and Sani of the Panthers of Coele, a home here in our den. I would hear your concerns and arguments against their residency here before offering them a final invitation. The floor now goes to whoever seeks it.”

Kore was the first to stand. “Of all those gathered here, I have spent the most time with Nasir and Sani. I speak faithfully when I promise they have offered nothing but respect and followed any order I’ve given them. They have never presented threat or argument, and only disagree out of general confusion. I see no reason why they should not be able to join us as permanent residents, rather than just through the winter.”

“They’re scrawny,” Saxa argued. She didn’t bother to stand, just remained sprawled out next to Belesa. “What can they offer? If I am to hunt for them, I expect something in return.”

“We can hunt for ourselves,” Sani retorted.

Nasir placed a hand on his brother’s wrist and kept him back. He took a steady breath before he moved forward and stood next to Agron. 

“There is not much I can offer you, a prince of a clan now broken apart and fallen, but I _can_ promise loyalty, protection, and lessons with the staff.” Nasir paused to look at each section of the gathered crowd before he continued. “We are uncommon creatures with a common enemy in the Eagles. My brother and I are just the latest to fall victim to their schemes, and I know some of you may worry that our presence may bring them ever close to these borders. That is not my wish, or our intention in coming here. To be honest, I sought these woods as a place to die before Agron intervened. We would not take from you without giving back what we could. Our coin is not much, and our skills suited to our mountains, but we are capable, and willing, to learn.”

“Even if it’s to dig the shit pits?” Gannicus asked.

Nasir nodded. “Even if it is that.”

Gannicus nodded. “I do not smell the lie on him, or the brother. I say they can stay. The Eagles will seek to kill us all. Why not have more numbers at our final meal?”

Agron dropped his shoulders and shook his head in despair. “Thank you, Gannicus, for your always insightful words.”

“Always a pleasure, cub,” Gannicus said. He stood up and sauntered over to Kore, throwing an arm around her waist and grinning at the crowd. “Now, let’s welcome the panthers with proper drink and food.”

“We still have to take a vote,” Donar yelled out over the enthusiastic murmurs. 

Duro looked at him. “Really?”

Donar shrugged. “Mira left me in charge of such things. If a proper vote isn’t taken, she’ll have my head. And Agron’s.”

He spoke the truth. Mira was a protector of the laws of the clans. She would not be pleased if such an act passed without proper procedure. 

Duro walked over to Agron’s side and whistled. He was pleased to see everyone, even Gannicus and Saxa, fall silent. “All in favor?”

The walls nearly shook with the resounding _Aye_.

“All opposed?” he asked.

“I still say they’re scrawny,” Saxa called. “But they’re pretty. They can stay.”

Nasir finally let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders smoothing out as he laughed. “Gratitude, Saxa.”

Duro leaned back to study Sani’s reaction. His eyes were trained on his brother’s back, a smile on his face, and a relief Duro knew well. They would have to talk later about the unique burden of being the younger brother for clan leaders. He suspected Sani had his own tale or two to tell, and with the way Nasir’s own eyes kept darting to Agron’s smile, they’d have family histories to exchange sooner rather than later.

He hoped the boys liked boar. It was always Agron’s first kill when trying to impress a new mate.


	5. Epilogue

Nasir laughed as one of the foxes toppled Sani to the ground along the worn path to the market place. There was that distinct chill in the air that meant winter was soon to come. The trees were starting to go bare, the ground littered in their orange, yellow, and red cast-offs. Nasir took in a deep, soothing breath, body finally free of all pain and injury, before he reached down to help his brother up.

“That is the third time Chadara’s done as much to you in a week,” Nasir said as he brushed the dirt off Sani’s clothes. “Are you certain you’ve not offended her?”

“I only told her that she had a pleasing singing voice. I don’t know how that could offend a fox,” Sani defended himself. He looked confused as he scowled at the wagons of the market place and the path Chadara had taken. “Duro said it would please her to hear such a thing, and I spoke nothing but the truth.”

“Duro is a meddler,” Nasir said. “I think you spend too much time with that wolf.”

“ _I_ spend too much time with a wolf?” Sani questioned. He elbowed Nasir’s side as they approached the first table. “I’m not the one who is drenched in a wolf’s scent at all hours of the day. How advantageous of you, to set yourself up with a clan leader.”

Nasir sniffed as he studied the cloak pins on display. “Some would say he is below my station.”

“And those fools would be eaten by the pack,” Sani muttered. He held up an ostentatious piece of green stone and bronze metal and made a face of distaste. “I see nothing here for Kore.”

“It is only our first stop,” Nasir reminded him.

With the coming of winter celebrations, there would be gifts exchanged before half the den went into hibernation. Some, like the wolves, would still run even as snow covered the ground. Others, like Lugo, would sleep for a month at the least. Nasir was surprised to admit he’d miss the bellowing words of that bear. Kore was the first on their list, their first true friend and as far as Nasir was concerned, the one of most import. 

“At least we know Agron would accept a strand of your hair and praise it as gold,” Sani said. “That is one less person to consider.”

“I would not take advantage of his affections,” Nasir disagreed, as they passed another table brimming with leather scabbards and small daggers. “I’ve been informed by half the den that there is a standard set to wolf courting, and Mira has threatened me with truly horrific punishments if I cause a blunder. I am not _allowed_ to give him a gift since she fears I will somehow outdo him. You will be giving him something in my stead. They can’t possibly object to a gift from your hands.”

Nasir still didn’t understand the complex courting rituals of the wolves, despite Duro’s many lectures and Kore’s patiently given advice. He didn’t like feeling so inactive, but he had to allow Agron to come to _him_ , or else it would reflect badly on the leader of their clan. Nasir snorted at the foolishness of it all. If _he_ was in charge, they would certainly be beyond this and deep in a full courtship. He’d let Agron and the wolves have their way for now, enjoying the flattery and the attention. But once Agron’s move was made, culminating in Nasir’s public acknowledgment and acceptance, they would be following the much more sensible panther way. 

“You’re thinking of him again,” Sani groaned. “Always with that smile. You two deserve each other. It turns my stomach, truly, to think I am to have such a man as a brother. How far we have fallen.”

Nasir pointedly did _not_ make a comment about Chadara or foxes in general. 

An old, familiar scent suddenly distracted him. He felt Sani tense at his side and knew he smelt it as well. Myrrh—a common thing of their homeland, yet a precious commodity this far to the west. According to Castus, it was hard to find a seller willing to pay the price to export it here, much less find a buyer among the farmers and hunting packs.

It wasn’t fresh either; it was old, stale, and mixed in with the scent of travel. Nasir ducked in between the wagons, Sani close to his side, and followed the stench until they found its carrier.

Indus.

“No,” he whispered, and pulled Sani back before he could attack. 

“He helped burned our home,” Sani hissed. “He stood at fucking Ashur’s side and watched as our people died. Why do you not rush to rip out his throat?”

“Because he is no good to us dead,” Nasir said. 

He cupped Sani’s cheek and willed some calm into his brother, even though his own heart was racing. It had been easy to lose themselves in the excitement of new friends and a new home, to think themselves truly safe for once. They lines around Sani’s mouth had started to fade and change, lips turned more to smiles than frowns. Nasir always knew the Eagles and Ashur would come after him, but he foolishly hoped it would be until later in the new year. He only wanted a little peace for Sani, for himself. It seemed a thing impossible.

“We cannot know why Indus has come so far out, and I would not make assumptions with the clan preparing for winter. We will return home, speak with Agron and the others, and form a plan. Spartacus will surely have some ideas. Those Thracians have fought wars unnumbered,” Nasir said.

Sani threw a disgusted look in Indus’ direction. “I do not agree with letting him out of our sight.”

“We may risk too much if we try to snatch him here, around so many strangers. There are humans and Voids here, Sani. They should not become victims in a fight between Purebloods, Duals, and the like,” Nasir urged. 

He couldn’t force Sani to follow him. His brother was growing into his broad shoulders and already topped Nasir in height. He was becoming his own man, yet Nasir hoped brotherly respect would be enough to stay his hand and heed Nasir’s words.

Sani growled low but finally conceded with a nod of his head. “We should find Chadara first, though. Pietros will worry if we return without her.”

“Yes, _Pietros_ would,” Nasir agreed, refraining from teasing Sani just this once. 

He gestured for Sani to go while he kept an eye on Indus. There were deep scratch marks on his face, possibly from panther claws. He looked nervous and his hands shook as he adjusted his cloak. Apparently time had not been kind to Indus since Coele was burnt. Nasir couldn’t say he felt much sympathy for the man. 

“What does Ashur have you up to now?” he murmured.


End file.
